


Never A Day Off

by doctorsnug (gabewrites)



Category: TWRP | Tupper Ware Remix Party (Band)
Genre: Sickfic, help sung, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-18
Updated: 2018-10-18
Packaged: 2019-08-04 02:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16337846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gabewrites/pseuds/doctorsnug
Summary: Sung can't seem to convince himself that he needs a day off for his personal health- he also denies that he has any problem with his personal health.





	Never A Day Off

**Author's Note:**

> I know this is GIGANTIC but.   
> Long story short someone told me that Sung was the fiend passing around the tour cold, so I started writing about Sung being...Sung, and never letting himself slow down until he HAS TO.

The last thing Sung expected when leaning in to interact with the crowd was his own face getting wet. Occasionally he managed to drip sweat on someone who looked either disgusted or honored, but he didn’t generally receive anything in return. That was, until he managed to lean into someone’s space at just the right time, just the right circumstances to get sneezed on by a fan who’s face directly after the incident resembled that of a dead man. A sniffly, yet apologetic voice rung up and into Sung’s ears from the crowd. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry!”

Sung laughed it off, and in confident Sung fashion, wiped his face off on the poor fan’s shirt to mortify them even more. “Shit happens!” Sung booped the guy’s nose and the front row fans all laughed in unison while watching Sung go back to dancing like it was nothing, leaving the guy who had just sneezed all over Sung’s face to stare in awe.

But what was Sung supposed to do? He couldn’t be mad at the guy. He could just be one of those people who sneezes at bright lights, or have bad allergies from the crowded venue, or just be nursing a cold that he wasn’t about to miss out on a concert for- if anything Sung commended the guy for dragging himself to a concert and being able to get through it if that were the case. Besides, there was no way a human cold was going to knock Sung down for the count- he didn’t even think he could **get** a human cold.

The last note of the song rang out and Meouch made a point to look over at Sung and laugh, then look into the audience, making eye contact with the fan who didn’t know if he was having the best or worst night of his life. “Not that kinda Doctor, huh?” Sung crossed his arms and made a show of it, but the rest of the set went on as any set would, aside from Sung holding back a laugh when every time he got too close, one specific fan made sure to cover their face to avoid any further embarrassment.

He didn’t think anything of it until he woke up the next morning, feeling groggy and weighed down when he tried to sit up and open his eye. ‘Must have been a rough show…’ Sung thought to himself as he flopped his head back down on his pillow, rubbing at his eye. He was fine, just tired. When he swallowed he couldn’t help but cringe at the scratchy, dry pain down his throat, making him reach for a water bottle close by.

It really was nothing, nothing but an intense show that would take him a it more effort to bounce back from. He chugged some water down, ignoring the fact that his throat still felt a little rough, and pushed himself up out of bed. He stretched and made his way over to where the other guys were already planning for...lunch? Lunch? Sung never slept that long, he needed his breakfast. “Rise and shine, sleepyhead.” Meouch snickered into his phone screen where he pulled up a GPS. “You were fuckin’ out, man.”

They pulled away in the van before Sung could even think, and he had to hum to himself a little to stop from dozing off. Every part of him was yelling to go back to bed, to get some more sleep and wake up feeling more refreshed than the slump he was in now, but he didn’t. Instead he went out for lunch and almost fell asleep in his plate of food. Phobos tapped his shoulder in

concern before he could zonk out at the table, making Sung jolt up and survey the room from behind his visor. Gods, he was really slipping, why couldn’t he pull himself together.

He had insisted on breakfast food since the diner was still serving it, and the smell of eggs and bacon should have woken him right up. When his food was barely touched, Meouch got concerned as well, clapping his hands together in front of Sung and laughing when he jumped again. “You alright there, bud?” Sung smiled weakly and shoved a piece of bacon in his mouth, but this time it was visible when his eye started to flutter shut, even if he kicked himself back awake.

“Show really- took a lot out of me, I’ll be…” Sung yawned and covered his mouth, not paying attention to the way Havve looked at him when his voice came out just a small smidgen of scratchy. He looked at the orange juice next to his plate but didn’t dare drink it. Meouch only crossed his arms.

“The show, huh?”

“The show, Meouch.”

Meouch looked skeptical when Sung shivered and tried to hold back a cough, pushing forward another weak smile that looked almost sad. Sung would never take a sick day, Meouch knew the guy. But he could try. “Well-” Meouch sat his empty plate to the side and picked up Sung’s half eaten one than hadn’t been touched in a few minutes. Sung didn’t object. “Why don’t we get back on the road. We don’t have another show until tomorrow night- so you can nap in the van and then get some good sleep at a hotel while we’ve got the chance.”

Phobos gave a helpful thumbs up and a smile that Sung knew was there,  Havve shrugged and started towards the van, and Meouch gave Sung a glare that got him out of his seat. “Fine, but I’m not sleeping in the van! I’m awake!”

Sung slept in the van because he was in no shape or form, fit to be awake. Meouch laughed at him, but Phobos grabbed a blanket to put over him, noticing the slight shiver Sung felt in his sleep. Phobos looked to Havve and signed quickly, looking at Sung with slight concern. He was out cold. _“Is Sung getting sick?”_

Havve only shrugged and lazily signed before letting himself power off. _“Nothing he can’t handle.”_ Phobos crossed his arms, and he watched the red lights in Havve’s eyes fizzle out. He watched Sung breath out of rhythm.  He knew better than to bother Meouch while he was driving. Instead he slid over next to Sung and looked the tired alien over again, resting the back of his hand of Sung’s forehead. Not too warm. He heard Sung sniffle in his sleep. Maybe he was starting that cold-

“Rise and shine, bitches- we’ve got a hotel to check into.” Meouch’s voice boomed through the bus, but Sung barely moved, his eye opening half way as he groaned. “Sung-” Meouch opened the door to hop out and watched Sung struggle to get his visor on and almost fall back asleep. Jesus Christ, the guy was a mess. Meouch scooped Sung off the seat and flung him over his shoulder, listening to Sung laugh weakly. At least he was there a little bit. “Let’s go, you hold on there, Doc.”

Sung was drifting in and out of sleep, fighting his own tired eyes and weakly hitting a hand against Meouch’s back. “Hey!” Sung was quiet and could have been considered downright pathetic looking, but he didn’t stop fighting. “Put me down...I can-” He dozed off again and felt himself sinking against Meouch again before jolting himself awake. “Down...I can walk- not a baby-” Meouch laughed and patted his back while he fell asleep again.

Sung couldn’t even remember how he got up to the hotel room, much less how he ended up in bed, but he barely opened his eye and saw Meouch laughing along with Phobos while they observed his sleepy state. “Is the baby finally awake?” Phobos was covering his mouth and trying not to laugh anymore when he saw Sung awake. Sung only grumbled and turned over in bed, his hair a mess from falling asleep over and over again.

Havve looked at Sung from across the room and shrugged, instead staring over at Phobos who pulled Sung’s blanket up again. Sung stretched in one last effort before groaning and pulling the blanket up even higher, hiding away from the rest of the room in warm comfort. “Baby...s’going back to sleep.” Phobos snickered at that one and quietly removed himself from Sung’s space to let him relax. Hopefully he’d be feeling better by tomorrow for the next show.

“He’s gonna feel like shit tomorrow, Phobs.” Meouch interjected and watched Phobos let out a deep breath, closing his eyes and flopping back onto the second bed. There was no point in sugar coating it, he supposed. Sung was definitely catching something, even if he wouldn’t admit it.

 _“Should we cancel tomorrow’s show?”_ Phobos showed legitimate concern, and Havve sort of kicked the ground with his feet and looked over to where Phobos laid. A few seconds of complete but meaningful silence filled the room. Phobos then looked at Meouch with a shrug. _“Havve says we should think about it.”_

Meouch looked over at Sung, how tired and worn down he really did look. He deserved a break, but Meouch knew he wouldn’t take one. “Nah-” Meouch sat on the foot of the bed next to Sung and looked him over again. “Do you know how pissed the fucker will be if we cancel that damn show- he hates to disappoint. He’d never shut up about it.” Meouch sighed and started planning dinner without Sung, deciding that they’d bring home some leftovers in case he wanted them.

-xxxxx-

“h’cHSCHEUU”

It was about 5am when Sung woke himself up and immediately felt snot dripping from his nose, an uncomfortable wake-up call that paired well with his sore throat and congestion building in his chest. He reached for water but remembered he didn’t have a chance to bring any into the hotel, slowly inching off the bed and trying not to wake anyone up that was close by. Despite almost falling on the floor when he got out of bed, he got to the bathroom quite smoothly, splashing water in his face and drinking some from the sink as a last resort.

The mirror was dark, as there was no way for even early morning signs of light to peak in, but another loud sneeze lit up his antennae for a moment and showed, for a split second, how horrible he really looked. Not that he would have seen it. He sighed when he heard Meouch grumble and growl awake. And he winced when another sneeze grated at his sore throat. “Sung? Why the hell are you up?” Meouch observed another flash of light from the bathroom and heard another, possibly even louder sneeze, that managed to wake Phobos up as well.

Sung panicked and cleared his throat, searching the bathroom for tissues frantically. “I’mb fine!” His voice came out just about as unfortunately nasally as it could have, his sinuses quite clearly clogged to the point of no return. “Just allergi-” Meouch flicked the bathroom light on and watched as Sung jumped and covered his face, until he sneezed again and looked disgusted at his own hands, snot literally dripping down his face. Meouch wanted to look concerned, but he knew his overall expression came out as disgust when snot dripped to the floor.

Sung looked for something to clean himself up with, but Meouch went into a panic and grabbed Sung’s shoulders to hold him still. He was not snotting up their towels. “You stay right here, buddy.” Meouch’s face scrunched up when he found himself up close to Sung, but he took the time to try to figure out what was wrong. “Phobs! Tissues please!” The sound of Phobos running around the hotel room was heard, but he showed up at the door in a timely manner, holding a small, square box.

He walked in to Meouch sniffing the air around Sung, skillfully avoiding any and all snot when holding Sung’s face up towards the light. His nose was already red from irritation, and his eye was definitely swollen- half from all the sleep and half from the sneezing. He looked tired too, even after getting more than enough shut eye to last him a week according to normal tour standards. “That guy really did a number on you…” Meouch took a tissue from Phobos and almost started cleaning Sung up himself before gagging and deciding against it.

Instead he grabbed the tissue box and sat it on the counter next to Sung with a weak smile. “You have fun with that, pal.” Meouch gave him a pat on the back but jumped a few feet away when he looked to be expecting another sneeze. Phobos cemented himself against a wall with a look of fear.

“HhG’CHU”

The bathroom light flashed off and back on while Sung nearly doubled over to try to hide away. When he stood up he was dizzy- and more snot covered- and gripped onto the counter while taking in a deep breath. He grabbed a tissue with defeat. Phobos stared in a sort of fear, wanting to go grab some cleaning supplies for the counter already. Meouch was starting to feel bad for the guy. Phobos managed to catch Sung’s eye and sign. _“Are you alright?”_ Sung sniffled and only nodded a yes. _“Maybe you should just…”_ Phobos paused for Sung to sneeze again. _“...maybe just get a shower.”_

Meouch snickered and stayed pressed against the doorway. “I don’t think he can stand long enough for that- and I’m not taking him to the ER for sneezing and breaking an arm.” Sung weakly laughed at that but nodded, staring towards the bath. Phobos reached up to tie his hair back and motioned towards the tub without a second thought.

 _“Let’s get this done, you need cleaned up.”_ Sung looked down at his feet and sighed, almost embarrassed. He reached for another tissue to blow his nose before responding.

Meouch ducked out of the bathroom with a wave when he realized water would be involved soon, but he looked back with concern and told Sung to feel better. Phobos shrugged and Sung managed to get his shirt off and throw it to the side, looking tired and a little grumpy as Phobos turned on the water. “You don’t have to- I’ll  be fine, I can give myself a bath.” Sung failed to prove his point when he sneezed into his hand and almost fell over.

He sighed and stripped down to boxers while staring at the water, hoping he’d feel better, that maybe it would clear his sinuses. And afterwards he could wrap himself in a blanket and bask in that warm, clean feeling- yeah, this would help. He still felt that his ability was being insulted while Phobos watched him climb into the bath, but he immediately felt his muscles relax when he leaned back into the hot water. He really needed this.

Sung didn’t notice that he was half asleep until Phobos laughed from the corner of the bathroom and walked over. _“And you said you didn’t need any help.”_ Phobos grinned and kneeled to the side of the tub, watching Sung shake himself awake. He leaned forward for a much needed dunk into the water, scrubbing his face off and coming up to Phobos handing him a small towel. At the least the guy was being helpful.

“I swear, I’m fine-” Sung rubbed his hands together under the water before dunking his hair into the water, ignoring the way his antennae sizzled a bit against the water. He still remembered the first time one of the guys had seen him get caught in the rain, antennae sparking and sizzling in a way that seemed dangerous. It took at least 20 minutes for him to assure them that he wasn’t going to die out in the rain. That was the only reason Phobos didn’t freak out and pull him back above water.

Phobos didn’t even ask before grabbing the shampoo and lathering up Sung’s hair for him, massaging his scalp and watching him relax even more. Sung shut his mouth and accepted the care, closing his eyes when Phobos had him dunk his head under the water again. It was Phobos who tapped his shoulder when he came back up to grab his attention. _“You deserve the help- sometimes you need to learn to relax.”_

Sung shrugged and the water rippled around him, running down his skin when he sat up to face Phobos. He tried to look up at his own head when Phobos didn't hesitate in running conditioner through his hair. “Well-” Sung almost said something dismissive again, almost scooted over to the other side of the tub. Instead, he frowned a bit and looked at Phobos’s concentrated eyes. He was lucky to have friends who would do this shit for him. Even if he swore up and down that he didn’t need it. “Thanks- thank you.”

Phobos giggled a little a shrugged, noting the immediate eye roll Sung gave him. Nevertheless, Sung cooperated in rinsing his hair one last time and eagerly accepted a towel to dry the water from his eyes. He felt a little dizzy when he tried to stand up, so he instead stayed seated while the water slowly swirled down the drain, drying his face and- that was a mistake. A tickle in his nose, and he must have made a strange face to get Phobos to back up out of the way before-

hHg’sCHEU!

Right into his towel where Meouch specifically told him to avoid snotting up. And on top of that, his antennae flung off any water caught on them to the rest of the room. Phobos had a strange feeling that Sung was about to start causing chaos no matter where he decided to go.

Luckily, he managed to dry off without, sneezing on, electrocuting, or breaking anything in the bathroom, (It was the small achievements that mattered) and he was back on his way to bed. He laid down and rubbed at his nose, playing it off and hoping to hide the irritation. All of the guys- now that someone had bothered to power Havve on- could clearly see Sung’s red nose standing out against his pale skin, but they kept their mouths shut.

He had gotten himself into comfy clothes and wrapped in a blanket, and he was staring at a schedule, as if he were at the pinnacle of health, ready to actually execute the actions. “Alright, so we need to leave around 5- no problem, we could all get a little more sleep and then still have time for lunch.” Sung sniffled a little, voice getting nasally as he went. “And umb-” Sung searched for a tissue, giving a thumbs up when Phobos tossed the box over, even if he lacked the hand-eye coordination to catch it and in fell into his lap unceremoniously.

“Sung, are you seriously trying to bullshit your way into this show?” Sung blew his nose loudly in response, laying back down after he threw his tissue in the trash. He looked completely comfy in his blanket, his hair fluffing up as it dried.

“It’s gonna be fine- too late to cancel now- and it’s-” Sung stopped, not sure what he was dealing with. He was pretty sure he couldn’t get human sickness- 80% sure at this point. He refused to accept missing a show for it, he was sure of that. “Just allergies- or maybe a cold, but I don’t _get_ colds, so it’s fine, guys.” He started drifting off, ironically as the sun really started to shine. “Show’s on guys- m’not changing my mind.”

-xxxxx-

“RISE AND SHINE, IT’S TIME FOR LUNCH!” Sung shot out of bed faster than even his healthy friends could, sniffling but not letting it impact his mood. They had a show to put on real soon, and Sung wasn’t about to half-ass his energy. It was about 2, a little late to be considered a true lunch, but Meouch woke up with a grumbling stomach and didn’t seem to care about the details. The groan in Sung’s direction was telling of the fact that he was previously enjoying the break from Sung’s energy.

Sung’s nearly obnoxious enthusiasm seemed to be back, but Meouch was certain he’d wear himself out soon, and the front he was putting out would die off. He just hoped Sung didn’t pass out in the middle of the show. He held out hope when Sung kept his antics up through lunch, possibly flirting with the waiter and definitely stealing at least a few fries from everyone’s plate.

It was nice to see him more alive, more bright again, but Meouch could detect that hint of worn out, a little grayer than usual under Sung’s sunshiny outward appearance (not to mention his persistent sniffles).

If they were gonna do this show, they were gonna do it right. And that’s why Meouch pulled Sung to the side while Phobos and Havve boarded the van after lunch. “Sung-” Meouch’s tone was a little demanding, but demanding only out of his own concern.

Sung wiped his nose on his sleeve and skillfully held back a sneeze as he had learned to do, waiting a moment for the overwhelming tickle in his nose to fade away. Meouch sighed at him while waiting. He was really starting to wish they’d cancelled the show behind Sung’s back. “Yeah, what’s up?!” Sung smiled up at Meouch through his tired face, antennae sparking at attention.

“You know you shouldn’t be doing this show-” Meouch stopped Sung from butting in to defend himself, tail swishing through the air with a sense of authority. Sung crossed his arms at being cut off, but he sniffed and waited patiently with his mouth shut. “But I also know you’re going to do it anyway, and there’s nothing I can do to stop you.” Sung laughed under his breath at that, shrugging a little. He knew it was true. “So-” Sung’s eye was drawn up by Meouch’s loud and rough tone, “You tell me if you know you’re about to fuckin’ go down while we’re on stage.”

  
“Pssh,” Sung waved Meouch away, as if he was speaking completely illogically. “You think I’m _that_ sick, man?” Sung moved himself around, jumped a bit, even high-kicked in front of Meouchwith a smile. “I’ve got it- I really do.” Sung sounded extremely sure of himself, even when that sneeze from before finally caught up to him and left him dizzy. Even with his head spinning and his antennae sparking under his hat, he looked confident in himself.

“Whatever you say, idiot, but I’m driving.”

Sung nodded and ran to the van, visor off as soon as he got in. Phobos looked to Sung, eyes seeming to ask if they were off to the show. “We’re leaving soon, might get there early for once,” Sung laughed and sat across from Phobos.

Meouch stepped in and started the van, looking back at the guys, but especially at Sung. “Only on time because you aren’t driving.” His tail swung playfully behind him as the van warmed up. He wasn’t wrong, Sung was notorious for running them late. A small giggle from Phobos was drowned out as the van sputtered out of their parking spot.

-xxxxx-

 ** _“TWRP! TWRP! TWRP! TWRP!”_** The audience roared while TWRP stood backstage, led by Dylan in their chant. The cheers always shook Sung to his core, the excitement filling him with a bright and unpredictable energy. He was literally bouncing as he did before most shows, staring out onto the stage carefully without a visor to hide behind. He was shooting sparks of electricity into the air and had to back off again. It was time to get his cone on nice and secure.

His pylon was more than a fashion statement, generally preventing him from somehow killing the stage lights or even interfering with the sound system if he conducted electricity just the right way. Phobos seemed to be a step ahead when he handed over Sung’s helmet. “Phobos are you ready?” Despite the nasally tone, no one could deny his enthusiasm when a light buzzing sound accompanied him wherever he went.

He got his head gear secured and- with the buzzing stopped- he threw and arm around Meouch and one around Phobos, pulling them all together with a smile. “C’mon guys! It’s showtime!” Sung sniffled and was politely removed from holding the two of them, but he refused a tissue and insisted he was already doing much better.

“I’m not looking to catch your cold, Sung.” Sung tried to protest but buried his head in the crook of his arm for a moment, even coughing a bit when he came back up. Meouch rolled his eyes. “You know we’ve got 10 minutes at least- we all need to get suited up and ready- unless you forgot.” Sung looked down at his relatively normal clothes and nodded, as if he hadn’t forgotten and wasn’t about to run onstage. Get in costume, time to do that.

It was only slightly foreboding that he already felt like he was sweating through his normal clothes, but he chalked it up to being hotter than normal backstage. He didn’t bother to actually

ask someone if it was any different than usual. “Sung, you almost ready?” Meouch seemed a little concerned. Sung hoped he didn’t sweat through his suit abnormally faster than usually.

Generally, Sung was always ready to go on stage first, urging everyone else to hurry up so that they could get on stage and greet the fans as soon as possible. But this time Sung struggled to pull tight spandex over already perspiring skin, and he was nearly out of breath once he finally fought and won the battle against his skin-tight outfit. He had only worked up more of a sweat from his stress, but he took a breath and tried to cool off.

Sung waited to finish catching his breath before showing himself, combatting a small fit of dizziness that resulted from his sudden movement. When his vision came back into focus, his eye rested on Meouch. And Dylan. Dylan was standing next to him. Oh Christ. Sung immediately tried to stand up straighter, carry himself with more confidence.

Dylan crossed his arms while looking Sung up and down, catching a glimpse of red flushed sore nose when Sung tried to look away. Dylan cleared his throat and stared at Sung through his visor, knowing that he would look back even though Dylan couldn’t see through it. “Meouch told me you shouldn’t be here- so what are up to...” It was a question, but it came out as more of a question to himself, not to Sung.

Almost instantaneously, Sung found himself holding back a sneeze, and he awkwardly muffled it by quickly pushing a gloved hand up his visor, slightly upsetting his cone with the sudden movement. Dylan immediately noticed that it was now sitting crooked and walked forward to set it straight. “You’re on some ‘the show must go on’ adrenaline bullshit, aren’t you?” Sung hated the way Dylan seemed to be able to see right through him sometimes.

“I’ll be fine-” He looked at Meouch who was still listening and fell into a sort of whisper, tapping his foot restlessly as the crowd starting chanting TWRP again. “It’s just a cold, Dylan, I can get through the show.” He wasn’t about to let Dylan’s motivational speaking skills motivate him to give up on this- he was insistent on making that crowd happy.

Dylan sighed and gave Sung a pat on the back, sensing that he wasn’t about to give this show up, He couldn’t blame him, considering he’d most likely do that same thing. “Just don’t wear yourself out, Gorgeous.” Dylan winked and gave him a smack on the ass. As per usual. “See you in an hour.” Sung sighed out a laugh and watched Phobos and Havve walk out on stage. They could get this done.

It was so refreshing to hear the crowd cheer, to hear and feel the reason that they toured. It made it worth it- made the rough schedules, the sometimes bad sleeping conditions, and the drama a tour could bring along- all worth it. Meouch stepped out and caused another roar of cheers. And then Sung was rolling out, much too disoriented to be on the Swagtron, but doing it anyway. He could block it out when focusing on the happiness in the crowd.

“I have a question for you tonight-” Sung smiled, hoping he could sniffle away from his mic. “Are you ready to have some fun tonight?” The crowd screamed back with a resounding positive response, and he even noticed a few people wearing their own versions of TWRP’s costumes, recreations and some reimaginations. It really stood out how much they meant to these people. Sung found himself hoping that the crowd knew how much they meant to TWRP as well.

It only took one round of Meouch’s dedication to the ladies to get the crowd really into it, laughing and smiling and having a good time.

And everything was fantastic for the time being- the first few songs, Meouch and Sung sharing banter about the song number. It all felt normal, and Sung shot off at full energy, dancing around the stage. It wasn’t until around song number five (or song number seventeen in technical terms) that he felt the life draining away from his performance. Of course, he decided to push through it rather than dull his normal routine.

Meouch finally shot him a look when they got through Strike a Pose, scooting close enough to ask if he was alright. His cautious tone was apparent, but Sung gave the good ol’ thumbs up and effectively kicked his own ass across the stage, quickly losing steam when he got through his nunchuck routine. It was starting to show- even if he might have been fooling some newcomers in the audience- that he was going to tire out before the show was done with.

“Are you feeling alright, Doctor Sung?” Meouch spoke into his mic and to the audience as an accusation, one that stopped Sung in his tracks and made him laugh nervously on mic. He wasn’t hiding his sniffles very well anymore. Even Havve had a disapproving eye looking his direction.

Sung feigned a cough this time, acting as if on the verge of powering down so he could play it off. When he bent over at his waist, the crowd’s laughter replaced worry, and he hoped no one noticed him almost dripping snot onto the stage. Gross. “It’s just all the funk- it’s really getting to me- maybe we’re rocking out _too hard.”_ The crowd booed, of course, wanting the funkiest music available.

He tried not to look too pained as he stood back up straight and wiped off his face, his smile only slightly weaker than before. “Right, right, stupid of me to suggest- the funk will continue.” Sung fanned himself a bit when he became aware of himself sweating. He could feel Meouch staring through the back of his head. He was surprised he hadn’t been dragged off stage yet. “Do you think we’re ready for...a party?” The drums kicked off and Sung smiled back at Meouch this time, trying to assure him that everything was alright.

His poor suit sure was getting even more sweat than usual, and he was sure that would be evident in any pictures taken, but he ignored the wave of heat that worked its way through his body. He shivered for just a second before shaking himself off and wiping sweat off of his face again. He made himself laugh between songs thinking about the fact that he was sweating an amount to rival even Dylan.

Speaking of Dylan-

_“How have you sexy motherfuckers been enjoying TWRP!?”_

There he was.

Dylan quickly made a beeline to Sung and threw an arm around his shoulder when he noticed he wasn’t on the Swagtron. He let Josh take the moment to talk about how the tour was going and tell the audience to buy TWRP’s new album. “You doin’ alright, Doc?” Dylan spoke with genuine concern, and Sung could tell that he had let his stage persona drop for a moment. Sung nodded and turned his mic of for a quick moment so he could respond.

“I’m- I’m a little drained, but we’ve got a show to finish, I’ll be fine.” Dylan laughed when he realized that leaning on Sung had redrenched his body in sweat after finally drying off from his opening performance. ”And really sweaty- I’m really fucking sweaty.” Josh finished stalling the crowd and Dylan removed himself from Sung, but he still stayed close as the beat came in.

Sung turned his mic back on and noticeably stayed off of the Swagtron, accidently giggling into his mic when Dylan decided to remark on that sweat comment before finally starting to sing. It was easy to tell that Dylan was taking it a little easy on Sung, but he did manage to circle around him and get some cheers as Sung focused on the talk box. It was after Tactile Sensation (and a flirty goodbye from Dylan as he walked off stage) that Sung realized he was counting down the songs. His body was certainly over this performance.

Was it- four more? Right? Not much to go. He swayed before grabbing onto his synthesizer to hold himself up. Havve nearly stood up from his drums to catch Sung and drag him off stage. Sung made sure to give a thumbs up to assure he was okay, but he felt his head swimming through the last few songs. They all meshed together a bit ,the only thing keeping him on beat and accurate being his muscle memory from playing the same songs all tour.

He didn’t move around much, and Phobos was pretty sure he witnessed the first failed high kick in TWRP history when Sung almost fell over and struggled for his footing. The whole band was on edge and hoping Sung got himself off stage soon. But of course, he wasn’t going to.

There was an overwhelming pounding in his head, an occasional sneeze adding pressure in his sinuses as he tried to hold his mic away. He was in desperate need of about ten tissues when they reached their final song, and he was shivering in his own sweat, his body a cruel mix of steaming hot and freezing cold. He really needed to lay down...maybe he should lay down- no! He kicked himself awake and pushed on, even when the room felt like it was spinning. Was the stage getting brighter?

He felt it getting harder to breath, he even felt his legs wobbling as they rounded the last hypothetical corner of the song. He couldn’t stop himself from sneezing obnoxiously into his arm rather than finishing the last note of the song, and his bright vision quickly faded to black for a split second, like a skip in a record. The next second Meouch had Sung’s arm on his shoulder, and a hand holding Sung at his waist in hopes that he was going to stay upright.

The whole crowd looked concerned, and Phobos ran over to Sung as well, supporting his other side. Sung was mumbling and insisting he was fine. Meouch was getting ready to lift him again if he didn’t accept the help, but instead he almost dropped him when someone from the crowd yelled that the funk had knocked him out.

When they finally got off stage- even though their equipment remained on stage- Sung seemed to at least know what was going on and he shot his fist in the air and cheered for himself. “I did it, guys! I told you so!” Sung almost lost his footing again and went back to holding onto Meouch for help. He shivered a little when they got outside and started walking toward the van, sneezing down and thankfully away from his bandmates.

“Yeah, and you almost fuckin’ knocked your teeth out on your synth, but whatever you say.” Sung laughed and sniffled even though he was a complete mess of a lost cause. He needed a tissue about an hour ago.

Meouch hoisted Sung up onto the van and into the spot Sung had been sleeping before, littered with blankets and a few pillows to keep him comfy for the time being. Instead of leaving Phobos to be the caretaker, Meouch kneeled down beside Sung for once and his tail stood at attention. He was on high alert. He motioned Phobos over and started stripping Sung of his armour. “Get his cone off, Phobs, we need to check him out.”

It was easy to see that Sung was desperate to clear his nose just a little, and Meouch let a paw drag down his own face before searching the van for tissues. He even pressed one up to Sung’s face and cringed while telling him to blow into it. The things he did for his friends.

Sung was aware of Meouch and Phobos trying to help, but he wasn’t focused on them. He was more focused on hugging a tiny pillow to his chest and sniffling while he fluctuated between hot and asking for more blankets. It only took a few minutes of wrestling with his armour to set him free, and Meouch peeled the spandex down at least to his waist. Meouch watched as Phobos touched the back of his hand to Sung’s forehead and flinched away. He was definitely warm.

“Hey, Sung?” No response. “Sung?” Meouch let a growl out and shook Sung’s shoulder, making Sung groan a little, but pay attention. “Sorry- but listen to me, are you alright?”

Sung stretched and let out a yawn before looking up at Meouch and Phobos. He could feel how exhausted his body was, and he could feel the smallest tinge of regret for pushing himself so hard. “Yeah, m’good.” He felt his body sinking into the blankets around him and trying to find comfort, but he kept himself coherent enough to listen. “What’s up?”

Meouch grabbed a set of comfy and clean clothes from the back of the van and presented them to Sung, sitting them right next to him gently. “We’ve gotta go pack up all our shit- but change into these before we get back- if you start feeling better. Your suit is fucking gross.” Sung nodded and closed his eyes again, taking a breath while Meouch and Phobos turned to leave.

Before Phobos left, he turned and coughed to get Sung’s attention, putting his thumb up almost as a question. When Sung responded to his question with his own thumbs up Phobos smiled and hopped off the van.

The slam of the door put Sung to sleep.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I'll write more of this soon, it's super fun!!!


End file.
